“Younger than I,” said Alvina.
“Younger than you, because I am practical from the heart, and not only from the head. You are not practical from the heart. And yet you have a heart.”
“But all Englishwomen have good hearts,” protested Alvina.
“No! No!” objected Madame. “They are all ve-ry kind, and ve-ry practical with their kindness. But they have no heart in all their kindness. It is all head, all head: the kindness of the head.”
“I can’t agree with you,” said Alvina.
“No. No. I don’t expect it. But I don’t mind. You are very kind to me, and I thank you. But it is from the head, you see. And so I thank you from the head. From the heart—no.”
Madame plucked her white fingers together and laid them on her breast with a gesture of repudiation. Her black eyes stared spitefully.
“But Madame,” said Alvina, nettled, “I should never be half such a good business woman as you. Isn’t that from the head?”
“Ha! of course! Of course you wouldn’t be a good business woman. Because you are kind from the head. I—” she tapped her forehead and shook her head—“I am not kind from the head. From the head I am business-woman, good business-woman. Of course I am a good business-woman—of course! But—” here she changed her expression, widened her eyes, and laid her hand on her breast—“when the heart speaks—then I listen with the heart. I do not listen with the head. The heart hears the heart. The head—that is another thing. But you have blue eyes, you cannot understand. Only dark eyes—” She paused and mused.
“And what about yellow eyes?” asked Alvina, laughing.